


Haze

by baeberiibungh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Fever, Hallucinations, Happy Ending, Hurt, M/M, Pack, Poisoning, Puppy pile, Scent Marking, Snuffles - Freeform, Whining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles curls his hands around Derek’s neck tightly. Derek is hunched over and not looking at Stiles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haze

Scott carries Stiles over and puts him on the edge of the big bed. The bed is dab smack in the middle of Derek’s loft, made to perfection for pack night puppy piles. Now, Stiles writhes on it, his body scarlet hot as he gasps for air loudly while looking around in a daze. Derek is lying on the other side, having been dragged to the bed by the combined efforts of Isaac and Boyd who are still breathing loudly. Where Stiles is making loud noises and moving around, Derek is uncannily still, his knees clutched to his chest over whist he has wrapped his hands so tight that the yellow flower patterned sheet under him is filling up with blood from the holes he is gouging into his flesh, letting out desperate whines with each breath.

Those whines _hurt_. There was this very evident wave of distress and sadness and desperation that was flowing from Derek with an intensity that left Scott, Isaac, Boyd and Erica, who had just reached with Allison and Lydia, blanch. They could feel their nose singe like there is a fire going around except it is the heat of Derek’s emotions that is making them react so viscerally. They headed straight to Deaton’s after the skirmish, Stiles half-screaming in pain with every step. Deaton checked them and let them know that Derek and Stiles were reacting to a high concentrate of a particular strain of bluemonskwood vine leaves. It was not fatal and non-transferable, hence none of the others were showing any signs of distress.

However it was a strong hallucinogenic in its untreated form and can cause high fever, rashes, even the chance of poisoning. Deaton had assures them that the duo had only prolonged skin contact with the aforementioned vine and did not ingest it. A night of strong fever, possibly ghastly hallucinations and thirst was all they had to go through now to get cured. Scott decided that they all better head to Derek’s loft to stay there as there was no way the Sheriff couldn’t notice and thus insist on taking Stiles to the hospital. Scott will try to get to it tomorrow but he was not going to take the chance of over loading his system with drugs that may or may not work for his actual condition. 

So Scott picked up Stiles, a phantom Stiles in his head mouthing off about the indignity of the position of being in a bridal carry by his best friend just like a dame in distress and he has to give a snort at that. Sure, when he tells Stiles he did it, Scott has no doubt that Stiles will say something in that vein without any doubt. They all had keys to the loft and there was no one manning the door, so everyone headed to Derek’s floor and then lay both of them down into the big bed. Derek’s non verbal self mutilation was to be expected, as told by Deaton, still Scott did not exactly like seeing him trying to rip himself into shreds. So he, with Boyd’s help, Isaac making tea for everyone in the kitchen and keeping away from the pain and blood he is so intimately familiar with after a lifetime with his father, pulls away Derek claws out and is rewarded with an even more hurting rendition of dejected whining.

Before Scott can decide what to do about that, if trying to sooth him via physical contact is something he would even allow, Stiles throws himself onto Derek’s side. He is sweating profusely. He took off his shirt and his tee and half opened his jeans and his eyes still look hazy as if he is not entirely sure where the hell he is. He is still gasping lightly but none of that stop him from putting his hands around Derek. He curls his hands over Derek’s neck tightly and the pitch of the whine rises a second before lowering. Stiles is just about delirious, and his hands are shaking a bit, almost in tune with the slight shivers that Derek is still giving. But Stiles continues rubbing his hand all over Derek, scent marking him Scott realizes, before making an inquiring whine at Derek.

Derek does not say anything but presses nearer to Stiles. Isaac, back with his tea, suddenly rubs his hand over the curve of Derek’s spine, rubbing his hand into his hair and scent marking him too. Erica and Boyd follows. Allison, Scott and Lydia does the rest. Derek is not shivering anymore and not as tightly wound as well. His hand is now clasped into the edge of Stiles’ open jeans, clutching it with the force of a small child afraid in a new place and nuzzles into Stiles’ chest, rubbing his face into Stiles’s throat and chest. Stiles is not gasping as much now, somewhat settled. His eyes are still hazy and his movements are more jerky than usual, but still is settling. They make Derek and Stiles drink a bit of water and then some juice and just keep an eye on them.

Both fall asleep some hours later, plastered to each other, one hand clasping the other tightly and the other flung out that the rest of the pack kept touching. No one wanted to leave the two of them alone so everyone just arranged themselves around the sleeping couple, making sure to touch them as well as the other members of the pack as much and as often as they can. Derek kept letting out small whines in his dreams so everyone kept rubbing at the nearest part of him they could reach, till they were almost doing it unconsciously. They fell asleep then, having eaten a bunch of pizzas after the group scent marking had ended. The whole pack would swear that it had been one of the best sleep they had gotten together, the best puppy pile ever. 

Stiles, true to Scott’s words, joked a lot about how he was carried around like a bride. Looking at him curled somewhat protectively around a still sleeping Derek who had his hand around Stiles’s waist loosely, Scott made a few lame attempts to explain away his actions. There was still brittleness around Stiles’ eyes and Derek was yet to actually get his face away from the curve of Stiles’s neck, but considering everything and how bad it could have gone based on previous experiences, Scott had no problem calling it a win.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading good folks. Unbetaed. Kudos and comment please


End file.
